The Holy Ground
You cannot practise dying, though we want to do it well
We don’t want to appear foolish when we might be in hell
We can practise smiling and opening the door
Unless like me you’re crippled and you’re feeling very low
You can practise music, you can practise Art
You can practise hiding in the burrows of the heart
Then you get to go on stage and do it all for real
Dying ain’t for dummies but allow yourself to feel
You can practise for your wedding, your baptism and your fall
In the hall of mirrors where God lives off the wall
You can practise speaking, you can do it many ways
Then you must stop practising, and say the words today
In the little spaces in between the sounds
Let yourself be emptied, you are on the Holy Ground
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